Long Winded Promises
by catmaniac
Summary: S7 story. Will Dean bow down to this new God? Or were Castiel's efforts for power a waste? Just a short story. Can be Dean/Cas if you squint really hard, T for language. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I'm pretty sure this could count as a first chapter. I didn't write much, this is just a short wrap-up of the end of S6, so **THERE ARE SPOILERS** if you haven't seen the end of S6! **THIS WHOLE PIECE IS ONE BIG GARGANTUAN SPOILER. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU.**_

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><p>The demon Crowley chuckled to himself after Castiel departed. His plan would work, without a doubt. By trusting the angel with millions of souls from Purgatory, he just might be able to gain an ally and stop the Apocalypse.<p>

The idea was to split the souls from Purgatory, half for him, half for Castiel. He hoped with this power, they could prevent Raphael from destroying the earth. Not that Crowley really cared about the oh-so precious earth, he just wanted the power. He just wanted to keep Dean and Sam off his ass, so he told Castiel to keep their little deal a secret. He knew that even if Castiel gave them out, the good angel would lose the faith his friends had for him, and it would work out either way.

All he had left to do now was wait. He grinned like the evil thing he was, and returned to his humble abode in Hell.

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><p>Dean sighed, frustrated, for the umpteenth time that afternoon. "Really, why are you two gangin' up on Cas? He trusts us completely, why can't you trust him? It's not like he's working with Crowley. Crowley's a demon for cryin' out loud!" He was angry, and the slight tinge of red on his face did nothing to hide it.<p>

"Sorry, Dean," Bobby paused mid-sentence. "I hate to be suspicious of angel boy, but something just isn't addin' up right. I find it odd that he can't help us find Crowley, but is somehow convinced he's still alive!" Sam nodded his head in agreement.

Dean shook his head and snorted in disgust. "I can't believe you," He ran a hand through his hair and finished his sentence in a near whisper, "he's our friend."

"Dean, I wanna give him the benefit of the doubt as much as you do," Sam said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "but I think we need to cover all bases here and assume the worst."

Castiel watched the argument unfold, hidden from their view. Little did they know that he had a genuine deal with Crowley. A rather risky deal, at that, dealing souls like they were currency. But, that didn't hurt the angel nearly as much as it should have, although deep in his Grace he knew it couldn't be right that he had made such a deal with the biggest con artist in Hell.

The part that bothered Castiel was Dean. Dean put so much trust in Castiel. He was so convinced that the angel wouldn't go behind their backs and work with the enemy. After all, everything he did, he did it for Dean, and that had finally gained the human's trust. But now, he lied to the human and spied on the conversations he had with his brother and Bobby. If he was found out, Castiel would lose all of the trust that he had worked so hard to gain.

Castiel disappeared. He had to prove to Dean that this was the right choice.

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><p>As soon as Dean dropped the match, Castiel knew. He knew that he had been discovered.<p>

The small flame lit into a neat circle around the angel, trapping him within the holy fire. He was somewhat confused, at first. What had he done to reveal himself? He had used the angelic powers to keep himself hidden from the humans, but he feared that his "mojo" was not to blame here.

It was later explained that he had reused a phrase that he could not have heard from anyone other that Bobby, and when it was said, Castiel was not in the room. They knew he had spied on them, but what else did they know?

"Look me in the eyes, man, and tell me you're not working with Crowley!" Dean's gaze penetrated Castiel, and would have stared into his very Grace if it could.

Castiel certainly tried, but he could not lie to Dean, and his gaze shifted to the floor.

A look of pure hurt flashed in Dean's eyes, and Castiel would never forget that. He would never forget how much that one look told about what he had done. There was no way to go back now, for the trust had been shattered, and it would never return completely.

Castiel asked several times for an explanation. He just wanted for them to hear him out and understand from his perspective. He tried his best to explain to the humans what he planned on doing and why, but they wouldn't have any of it. Even Sam told him there was no way they could trust him. Not after what he had done. "You wouldn't understand. It's complicated." Castiel gave up trying to explain. It was evident they wouldn't listen, so why bother?

"When crap like this comes up, we deal with it. We don't go out and make a deal with the devil." Dean explained the whole situation in an entire sentence, making Castiel feel a slight twinge of guilt.

"You make it sound so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?" Castiel mumbled, his low voice faltering.

"I was there. Where were you?" Dean's facial expression coupled with the words he spoke made the guilt even worse. It was all Castiel's fault that Dean could never live the apple-pie life he wanted. All of that was ruined because of him.

It was unfortunate that he could not back out of the deal, because if he could, he sure would have. However, he had to carry on with his plan. Not even distrust from the humans would stop him now; he had to prove to the humans that he, an angel of the Lord, knew what he was doing better than they did.

He could then hear Crowley's minions coming to aide him. Castiel did what he could to save his friends from the demons and told them to run for their life.

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><p>And so, after the gates of Purgatory had been ripped open, after a few complications, and the souls were ingested, Castiel sought out Raphael. It was time to stop the madness in Heaven with the power of millions of souls.<p>

With a snap of his fingers, he used his godly powers to eliminate Raphael for once and for all, causing him to explode on command. He turned to away from Dean, yet spoke to him pointedly. "So you see. I saved you." He looked at the large blood stain on the walls and floor that had once been his deceptive brother.

"You sure did, Cas. Thank you." Dean spoke with haste.

"You doubted me. Fought against me. But I was right all along." Castiel turned toward Dean and Bobby as he said this, a small, rare smile on his face that felt completely different than usual.

"Yeah, Cas, you were. We're sorry." again Dean's response was nearly immediate, as if to not offend Castiel. He then tried to convince Castiel to put the souls back into Purgatory, where they belonged? But they belonged with Castiel. He worked so hard for this new power, he wasn't going to let it go this early in the game, and not just to anyone. He was cut out for this. It was his destiny.

"We were family once," Dean paused and swallowed for a brief moment, "Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now, I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too." His breathing quickened. "You don't need this kind of juice, Cas! So get rid of it before it kills us all!"

If Castiel were still an angel, he would have given up at that point. But he was no longer that weak, naïve thing. "You're just saying that because I've won. Because you're afraid." He strode languidly toward Dean. "You're not my family, Dean. I have no family."

He barely felt it when Sam stabbed him from behind with Raphael's blade. As if such a petty weapon could kill a god! He removed the blade lazily and gave it a smug look. "I'm glad you made it, Sam," He nodded at the new presence, "but the angel way won't work. Because I'm not an angel anymore."

The look on Dean's face as Castiel, no longer an angel, approached him, made the next sentence somewhat difficult to say.

"I'm not an angel anymore. I'm your new God, a better one." He spoke to all three men, but concentrated on Dean as he spoke. "So, you will bow down, and profess your love unto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you." Castiel admired his new tone of voice as he said this. He was no longer the awkward and unsure angel. He was a God now, filled to the brim with power, and Dean had no place to deny him.

Dean swallowed loudly, the dry click echoing through the room, before ducking his head and answering Castiel in a strong, sure voice.

"No."

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><p><em>AN: So, what do you think? I'm sure there are 4,513,456 other stories with this same plotline, but I wanted to write my own.. Part two coming up soon, I'm planning for three parts. And I sure hope I got all of the quotes right, my computer speakers crapped out on me and it was difficult for me to hear what they were saying._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yeah, I'm actually planning on finishing this. Thanks to a rather depressing experience in rl, this was very easy for me to write. I hope I didn't let emotions get the best of me and this chapter is actually somewhat decent.

I forgot to mention before, but I don't own anything that you recognize. I'm just using the characters as my minions to bring out my emotions.

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><p>A million things rushed through Dean's mind at that moment. He felt the betrayal sneak in at the base of his spine and curl upward into white-hot anger. If Castiel was still an angel, Dean would have punched him or yelled at him, anything to get across the anger at such a stupid decision. But since he was now basically indestructible, Dean didn't know what he could do to show his anger. So instead, he showed defiance. He wouldn't let this power-hungry freak that destroyed his friend tell him what to do.<p>

Dean looked hard at Castiel. He looked exactly the same, without the curious blue eyes and awkward shyness. Now his gaze was cold and dark, and his stature was confident and overbearing.

Dean's friend was no longer in that vessel. He had been replaced with a monster. So when asked, Dean rejected the thought of ever worshiping this creature that had taken over Castiel.

"I'm sorry, but now I must destroy you." Castiel looked hard at Dean.

"Bring it." Dean wasn't afraid. Somehow the frantic looks that Sam and Bobby gave him made him feel more confident about dying right here and right now for the sake of what he believed was right.

Castiel held up his right hand and held it in front of Dean, and for several moments, nothing happened. Dean looked questioningly at the new god, who merely dropped his hand in response. "I cannot. For the life of me, I cannot murder you." He looked up and Dean swore he could see every single soul swimming in Castiel's eyes.

"Why not?" Dean felt a slight stirring of relief in the pit of his stomach, but he was certain that his death would come eventually.

The god looked down at his feet. "I don't know. But I can only hope that with time, you will change your answer and accept me." He said in a quieter, but still powerful tone.

"It's gonna be tough convincing us to do that, Cas," Sam piped up from somewhere behind the god.

"I know, but I am positive that I will find a way, any way, to make you see me as your new Lord." Castiel vanished into thin air with a loud, staticy crackle.

Dean took several deep breaths and collapsed onto the ground. He had been close to dying for his friend, yet again. Very, very close.

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><p>The atmosphere outside was different after that day. The weather was mild, never too hot or too cold, and it seemed like there weren't as many supernatrual things running around, terrorizing people. The Winchesters got to relax a little more when they traveled from place to place and didn't have to drive for as long or nearly as far.<p>

Dean sat on the hood of the Impala, enjoying a beer. It was night and he looked up at the clear, desert sky. He could see billions of stars, and the moon shone like a floodlight. It was perfect. Too perfect. 'I wonder if this is really Cas' doing, or maybe I'm just imagining things. I haven't seen bad weather in months...' Dean thought to himself.

"Hello, Dean." An unfamiliar yet unmistakable voice said behind him.

"Cas." Dean relied. He turned to see what appeared to be his friend, who had dark circles under his eyes and an unhealthy shade of pale. "Woah, man, what's up with you? You look awful," Dean spat out without thinking. "No offense," he added at the end.

"I am perfectly fine. I haven't changed at all. Why do you ask?" The god replied instantaneously .

Dean looked away from Castiel's penetrating stare. "No reason. How's the business going upstairs?" He wondered if it was any different that it was before Purgatory was drained.

"I have finally destroyed all of the angels that had sided with Raphael. They didn't put up much of a fight." His reply seemed a little too smooth.

"Ah. Well, he was probably a sucky leader anyways." Dean chuckled without humor.

"Indeed. They didn't even know he was gone." Castiel smiled one of his rare smiles. Even now, while he was a god, his usually stoic face looked strange with a smile, if not better.

"Are you the one who's controlling the weather?" Dean couldn't resist asking, "'Cause it's a little too perfect no matter where Sam and I go."

"Yes, I'm still getting used to the mechanics of weather, but I'm trying my best." He shrugged.

Dean smiled. "Well, I'm sure it's a difficult job, what other sorts of things do you get to control?"

Castiel shook his head. "I cannot tell you that, but I can do many things with this power." He said it with such nonchalance that Dean just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The god blinked and faded into a gentle breeze that swept over the desert.

Dean finished off his beer and chucked the bottle away as far away from him as he could.

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><p>Sam and Dean decided to revisit an old diner near Bobby's that they used to go to with their father as a kid. They had a pleasant meal and sat at the table afterward, completely full and sated.<p>

Neither of them noticed the third presence at the table until Sam leaned onto his elbow and found an arm underneath it. Both men jumped.

"Geeze Cas, you're even more sneaky now, you could have-" Dean cut off his sentence when he looked at what used to be his friend.

The dark circles under Castiel's eyes had grown and changed to a purplish hue, and the wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes had grown more pronounced. "I apologize, I just wanted to check up on you and your faith." His voice even sounded old and deteriorated.

Sam shook his head and muttered, "I don't think either of us will bow down, Cas. It's just not right."

Castiel wore a sarcastic grin. "Not right? What isn't right about it?"

"All of it," Dean snapped. "Besides the fact that you deliberately did what I said you probably shouldn't do just to prove to me that you're the smarter one, you obviously can't see what it's doing to you. Just look at yourself, Cas! You look like you've aged fifty years in the past few months!" Dean's voice had grown from a harsh whisper and into a shout, and other people in the diner glanced over at the unwraveling scene.

"Dean, I am fine, nothing is-" his speech was cut off by Sam who smacked his hand against the already weak diner table.

"Cas, no. You are not fine," Sam stated flatly. "Almighty Lord or not, these souls are too strong for you or something, because your vessel is starting to show it." Although he kept his voice low, his eyes mirrored Dean's anger.

Castiel sighed. "I wish you would understand. As I am not human, I do not get the chance to sleep," he looked down at his hands that were folded on the table. "thus, the signs of my stress are more obvious than they would be on a human."

Dean scratched his forehead and sighed. "Sorry for causing a scene, but Cas, I don't like this. I don't like it at all. I miss my friend, my brother." He spoke quieter now, and the eavesdroppers looked away.

"I know Dean, but someday you will understand, and then you'll accept me as your Lord." Castiel sighed, stood up, and walked out of the diner. Dean and Sam made a move to follow, but the god had vanished as soon as he met the outside air.

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><p>Sam felt bad for snapping at Cas in the diner. They hadn't seen him since then, and that was a month and a half ago.<p>

"Sam, I'm gettin' worried." Dean said out of the blue one day.

"About?" Sam prompted, but he already knew the answer.

"Cas. The thing going on in Heaven. The world falling to shit because Cas doesn't know what he's doing," Dean left a sharp sting at the end of the sentence. "I just don't think this is gonna turn out okay, Sam. I think somehow, someone's going to end up hurt."

"Look, Dean," Sam scratched the back of his neck, "I'm sorry for getting mad at him, we've been over this—"

"That's not it, Sam, quit blaming yourself. I did it too. I just don't think he's cut out for it and something's wrong, or else he wouldn't be aging so quickly. He's a.." Dean struggled for words for a moment, "a holy being. They don't age."

Sam thought about this for a moment. "It could just be his vessel." He concluded. "His actual Grace might be fine, but all of the souls could be too stressful for Jimmy's body. Humans aren't meant for carrying around the power of an angel, let alone and angel and millions of souls."

Dean shrugged. "I dunno, man. He obviously won't tell us what's going on because he wants to prove he's still right." Dean looked down at his shoes and rubbed his face.

Sam laid back onto the rather cheap piece of furniture and turned on the television. It didn't seem to turn on, so he tried again. Upon several attempts, the outlet that it was plugged into decided to spark and catch fire.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks and put out the small fire before it could get any worse. A soft thump landed outside of their motel room, and Dean stepped toward the door with caution and opened it slowly, prepared for anything.

What he wasn't prepared for was Castiel, crumpled and unconscious, laying out on the ground.

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><p>Read and review, please. It is greatly appreciated.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I hate harming characters normally, but this time it felt great. I've been having a rather crappy past few weeks, and this chapter made it a little better.

(Dealayed) disclamer: I own nothing. I simply manipulate fantastic characters in pitiful ways.

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><p>Castiel sat at an old wooden picnic table, enjoying the slight breeze that rolled through the park. He watched a small bird pick through the grass near his feet, hunting for insects.<p>

Heaven was emptier nowadays; the usual mull of angels and souls had nearly been wiped out completely. Castiel wove his fingers together and sighed as the bird flew away, seeming almost frightened.

He felt a presence behind him but didn't dare turn to it. He could feel his power crumbling within him due to the sheer energy that this other being contained. He knew better than to turn and face this impossible thing without the soul power, so he tried to ignore it.

"Castiel." The holy voice washed over him and rattled his vessel's bones. He didn't know who this was, but he did know this confrontation would most likely not end well.

Castiel turned to see a man wearing a casual suit, hands in his pockets. His pale eyes seemed to glow, and Castiel couldn't see Grace shining through the vessel like he usually could with angels.

"I know what you have done. And I am extremely disappointed in you." The man shifted calmly on his feet. "Stealing souls from Purgatory? Because you didn't believe that I existed and take over my place? Who do you think you are, murdering your brothers and sisters?"

Cold guilt and panic rushed through Castiel's veins as he processed the man's question. Could this man be God? "F..Father?" His voice faltered.

"Yes, Castiel. I am God." The man smiled wryly. "I know that you and all the other angels didn't think I was still here. For a while, you did, but even you gave up on me and did this," he motioned a hand around in a circle. "All of those humans believed, but my first children, my angels, ceased to believe in my existence." He took a few calming breaths before asking, "Why?"

He had no response. Castiel's breath hitched and his eyes shifted. Before he could retort, he felt his vessel's throat collapsing and his Father blinked. Castiel fell to his knees as he started to choke, and he clawed at his neck to somehow relieve the pressure. After what seemed like hours, the pain on his windpipe disappeared and several harsh coughs were generated.

He felt his stomach churn, and he leaned forward onto his hands. What was happening to him? The pain that contracted through his body was immense, and he started to wretch. One fragile soul fell from his lips and sank into the grass beneath him, turning it into a sticky, silvery mess. Castiel watched as soul after soul cascaded from his mouth and soaked into the Heavenly grass.

The Lord looked at him and smiled, "Now, Castiel, don't get me wrong. You've always been one of my favorite of my children, so pure and perfect. But after this, I will ensure that you never become an angel again."

The souls continued to leave him, and were now seeping through his pores and the palms of his hands. He felt his wings being ripped from his spine, feather by feather, and he howled in agony around the souls. Castiel soon became overwhelmed with the pain of his power being stripped all at once. When an angel normally falls, it happens over a course of a few days rather than mere minutes.

Eventually, all of the souls were gone and returned to Purgatory through the earth of the Heavenly dirt. Castiel breathed in as much air as he could to regain composure, but it felt like he couldn't get enough oxygen into his lungs. His body curled in on himself and he felt unconsciousness overtake him.

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><p>When he next woke, Castiel noticed he was laying on something soft, and he was in an unfamiliar room. He tried to move, but instantly stopped at the searing pain in every joint and muscle in his body. His upper back stung, and he instantly realized the absence of his wings.<p>

He opened his mouth to speak, and his lips cracked at the corners from being so dry. The only sound he could make was a pitiful croak, so he decided to shut his mouth and just wait. Someone would come by soon, right?

While he waited he decided to try and remember what had happened, but all he could remember was more pain. He had fallen once before, but he didn't remember it hurting this much.

"Hey, look, I think he's awake." A familiar voice said nearby, startling Castiel.

"Are you sure? He looked like he was beat up pretty bad." Another voice he just couldn't place through the tremendous headache.

He heard loud footsteps thud on the carpet, approaching him slowly. And then Dean was there, staring into his eyes and peeling off a bandage on his temple.

"Hey buddy, it's okay, you're okay now," Dean said softly, running his fingers through Castiel's silky hair. His friend spoke with such kindness, but how could he? He had been betrayed and Castiel didn't deserve this for what he had done to Dean.

"What? What happ-" Castiel squawked in response. After the searing pain shot down his throat, he decided that trying to talk hurt really bad and should be avoided. He felt the skin around his eyes become wet, and he assumed he was crying, but he didn't know why.

"Shhh, just rest, you'll heal. When you're better we will find out what happened, just relax," Sam softly said. He sounded so far away, but he was standing right next to Dean.

Castiel slowly closed his eyes and drifted into an slumber that couldn't be called peaceful.

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><p>It had been a few weeks since Castiel had fallen, and now he could talk and mostly move. He constantly complained about the soreness between his shoulder blades, where his wings had been ripped out, and he couldn't bend or lay down very well, but he was getting better. Mostly.<p>

Mostly, without the nightmares and separation anxiety. Castiel constantly dreamed of the things he had seen and been through over the course of his life. He dreamed of endless torture and the voices that had been in his head while he had the souls, all sounding lost and confused. He didn't want to be left alone, listening to the broken voices in his head, echoing that the Lord would come finish Castiel for the soul kidnapping.

Castiel had essentially lost his angelic powers once, although he had not fallen. He was now completely cut off from Heaven, and lacked all previous powers he had once held. He had gone from a powerful God to a mere mortal in less than a day.

Sam and Dean never asked what had happened to Castiel. He had a feeling they knew what had happened, to an extent, but he didn't want rip open the terrifying memories that he endured every time he closed his eyes by telling them the details. The nightmares that had been planted in his head were horrifing and extremely difficult to deal with as it was. They never asked anything about it, that is, until now.

So Castiel told them. He left out the torturous pain, and simply told him the injuries were from when he fell. They didn't believe it for a moment.

Dean looked at his brother for a moment and shook his head. "So, what you're trying to tell me is God sought you out and tortured you until you threw up the souls? Just because He never really seemed to show up and you didn't know if He was still there or not?"

"Pretty much," Castiel replied dryly. Both Sam and Dean had gone through similar suffering in Hell, so they understood what torture was.

Later that day, Dean sat with Castiel at the little table in the motel. Outside, lightning flashed and rain fell lightly from the sky. "Look, Cas, I know I was mad at you when you were planning on pulling the souls. I said some things that I probably shouldn't have," he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I should have trusted you, but you went behind our backs, man. Surely you can understand that."

"Of course I understand, Dean." Castiel smiled. His smiles were few and far between, and this one lit up his face brilliantly. "I should be the one apologizing. I don't know what I was thinking, trying to make a deal like that with Crowley." The demon's name sent fury down his spine. "I'm sorry I caused you so much stress, Dean. I just didn't know how to ask for help."

"Look man, it's fine. I have issues with that too." Dean patted Castiel's arm comfortingly. "Now I know you just wanted to do it for the wellbeing of Heaven and earth, and to defeat that Raphael guy. He was a real dick. I can understand why you'd wanna kill him."

Castiel laughed at that. "Dean, he wasn't a 'dick'," Castiel used the air quotations around the slang term he didn't fully understand, earning boisterous laughter from Dean. "He just wanted to turn the earth into a giant graveyard and destroy humanity."

Dean snorted. "Oh, yeah, cause that's just the nicest thing to do."

Castiel shrugged, "Angels have strange ways of obtaining power."

"You're one to talk," Dean joked.

Castiel chuckled and his grin stretched from ear to ear.

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><p>The three set out to eat at the local diner as soon as Castiel was fully healed. Dean was tired of Sam's cooking, and Sam was tired of Dean's complaining. Castiel had just begun to enjoy human food and didn't really care where it came from, just so long as he ate.<p>

They sat in the booth and skimmed through their paper menus. Castiel tried his best at picking what he wanted, even though he didn't know what half of the items on the menu were.

Sam sipped on his tea after they ordered. "Well, Cas, how's your first dining experience going so far?"

"I've been in a diner before, Sam," He answered simply.

Dean chuckled. "He means the first one you've actually eaten at. You've never sat down and eaten at a diner before, Cas."

Castiel shrugged. "It's not that bad, mostly what I expected. I'm not sure about this waitress, though. She keeps looking at me as if she wants to eat me," he looked down at his beverage uncomfortably.

Dean snorted and barely succeeded in swallowing a mouthful of soda, on the verge of spitting it all over his brother. "Dude, chill. She's not gonna eat you. She just thinks you're hot." He took another drink and Sam gave him the evil eye. "What?" Dean shrank under the accusing glare.

Castiel's face turned a dreadful shade of pink and the waitress chose this moment to return to the table. She smiled and bent over the table a little bit, giving him an unwanted cleavage shot. Sam cleared his throat and her flirty smile turned to an uncomfortable grimace as she handed out the food.

They ate mostly in silence, which was welcomed. As they left the diner, Sam looked up at the stars and sighed.

"That's your 'I'm actually thinking' sigh. What's your grand idea?" Dean mumbled.

Sam laughed a little, "I just remembered something. We forgot all about Crowley, we gotta get rid of him!"

The three exchanged a look. Castiel swallowed nervously, "how do you suppose we do that without me being an angel?"

Sam shrugged. "We'll figure it out. Don't you worry, we'll kick his ass."

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><p>AN: I know this chapter probably isn't as good as the other two, and I kinda went over my plan of 3 chapters. Reviews are love.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ah, yes! Chapter four is finally here! I wish I could have written this faster, but RL can be such an evil bitch. So much crap thanks to school and stupid drama queens make life miserable.. And fanfic is the only way I can escape. Anyway, I know I kinda made Crowley a douchebag in this chapter, but… I needed to convince myself that he really needed to die, and this is the only way I could do so.. Carry on and read, please!

As with the other chapters and all of my work, I own nothing except for the mistakes I made (seeing as I'm my own beta).

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><p>Dean, Sam and Castiel were gathered around Bobby's kitchen table, searching through every book they could find. Well, Castiel and Sam did some actual research. Dean, on the other hand, stared off into space, wondering when Bobby would get back from the beer run.<p>

"Dean, you've been staring at the bottle of ketchup for five minutes now. Are you gonna help us out or what?" Sam sounded mildly irritated, yet not surprised. Dean never was one for research.

Dean shrugged. "Man, I'm bored. I don't know how you two can just sit and stare at dusty pieces of paper for hours on end. I'm gonna go find something somewhat entertaining." He stood up and walked out of the room, ignoring Sam's snort of annoyance.

As Dean walked into the living room, he happened to glance out a nearby window that overlooked the junkyard. He noticed the sky had an odd greenish hue and angry clouds swirled about, but he looked down at his shoes and kept walking. It was probably just a bad thunderstorm, he thought. As he rounded the corner, he ran forcibly into what felt to be a person. He felt lukewarm liquid spill on the front of his shirt and watched a class fall to the ground with a spectacular crash.

Dean's head snapped up and his eyes met familiar ones. "Hello, Dean. That wasn't very nice of you..." The accented voice grumbled, causing the hairs on the back of Dean's neck to stand up straight.

Shit, not now, Dean thought. "Crowley, nice to see you here," he tried for sarcasm. "What the hell do you want?"

Crowley attempted to look baffled. "Why Dean, that's no way to talk to someone that can kill you with a mere thought. I was simply stopping by to see if my business partner was around for a quick chat?" Another alcoholic beverage appeared in his hand and he swirled the amber liquid around in the glass.

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, he's not here. He's probably upstairs smiting some angels or something," he smiled and hoped his lie sounded better to the demon than it did to his own ears.

Crowley grinned, and Castiel cried out in pain from the kitchen. "It's a shame, really," his eyes narrowed and his smile turned into a grimace, as Castiel's screams increased in volume, "how poor of a liar you are!" he snarled.

Dean heard Sam come storming into the room, and they exchanged a look of horror. The younger Winchester held no weapon of any sort, and when Dean turned to face the demon, he saw nothing but air.

"Dammit!"

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><p>Sam cleaned and wrapped Castiel's now broken and mauled arm, trying to be gentle and avoid further injury. Dean watched as Cas tried to sit still and not cry out any more.<p>

"Dean, he's a demon. Not just a demon, but a really souped up demon. How on earth did you expect to lie to him?" Sam demanded as he finished up on Castiel's arm.

"It's okay, Sam, he didn't know." Cas rubbed his awkward splint. "I'm sorry this happened, but we have to find a way to either destroy Crowley or-"

"Nope." Dean cut off his friend's speech. "We're gonna destroy him. There's no 'or' anywhere in this."

"Dean, that's nearly impossible.." Sam sounded unsure. And when Sam sounded unsure, it usually meant it was serious.

"Yeah? But we'll find a way." He rubbed his head. "Where is Bobby? He shouldn't be taking this long."

"I'm sure he'll be back soon," Sam didn't seem too worried, but Dean was.

Another hour passed with no sign of Bobby.

"Alright, let's go look for him," Sam finally agreed. He stood up to get his coat and suddenly there's loud footsteps on the front porch. None of the men heard a vehicle, so who could be out there?

The door flies open and Bobby enters the house, slamming the door shut again. "Bad news, boys," he sounded out of breath and paused his speech for a moment. "This little hokey pokey town is crawlin' with demons. We gotta figure out a plan, and figure it out quick"

Castiel walked in with a large tome. "Maybe this will help, he announced". The other three looked up and rushed toward the table.

After a long while of planning, Castiel and Sam figured out a way that would most likely destroy Crowley. Dean and Bobby decided that they could probably deal with the demons that infested the town. When they returned, they sat down to listen in on the plan.

"So basically we can just get him in a Devil's Trap and kill him like a normal demon?" Dean asked, shocked.

"Well, it's easier said than done," Sam nodded, "and if we screw this up, we'll just have a really pissed off demon."

"Maybe we should have a backup plan just in case this does not work," Castiel decided.  
>Dean nodded in agreement. "Definitely."<p>

"Okay, any suggestions?"

Silence followed.

"I doubt we'll be able to exorcise him, but we can try," Castiel said slowly, running a hand through his already crazy hair.

* * *

><p>They set up the Devil's Trap in an old abandoned house they found, not wanting to be anywhere near civilians in case they enraged Crowley.<p>

Dean went outside and summoned the demon, just to ensure that he got there. Crowley appeared like he was supposed to and strode with Dean into the house.

"So, what kind of deal are you trying to make," Crowley asked, standing in the doorway of the old home, "that requires you to meet me out here?"

"It's an important one," Dean said. "I didn't want anybody to overhear. You know what they'd say if they found out I was working with you." He walked farther into the room and stood on the rug that concealed the trap drawn on the floor.

"Yes, indeed," he nodded, "but it seems quite odd that you would need a Devil's Trap to negotiate with me, Dean. Something about that confuses me," Crowley snapped, flipping the rug up with a small hand movement and walking to a different part of the room. He smirked as Dean widened his eyes in horror. "That was far too potent for me to miss, Dean. You have much to learn."

"Oh really, so that's why you just stepped into another one?" Dean chuckled at his astonished expression. Sam and Bobby popped out from behind the demon and bound his hands together, forcing him into a chair.

Crowley became quite enraged, of course, and began to howl and curse as they spoke the words to exorcise him. However, the demon refused to leave the body, and Crowley just continued to get angrier and angrier.

"Well damn, what are we gonna do?" Bobby stood by the demon, hacking into his arm with Sam's demon blade, merely scratching Crowley's skin like dull claws of a weakened animal.

Cas quickly ran into the trap cut into the demon's arm, retrieving some blood, and frantically began painting a sigil on the wall. "That'll never work, you bloody fool! Never!" Crowley howled in anger and discontent, stomping his feet on the floor and knocking over the chair in which he was placed.

As Castiel finished and placed his hand on the center of the sigil, a bright light flooded the room, causing the humans to cover their eyes for a moment. After the light disappeared, they opened their eyes, instantly seeing the lifeless meatsuit of Crowley lay haphazardly on the ground, bound to the chair that was now scratched and charred.

"Well, that's one way to do it." Sam wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.

Dean looked down at the body, poking it with his foot. "What the hell was that? Is he really dead?"

Castiel nodded. "I drew the banishing sigil with his blood. Being a demon, his blood made the sigil even more powerful, and seeing as he was caught in the Devil's Trap, it caused all demonic presences leave him." He attempted to wipe the blood off of his shirt, but it was stained beyond help.

Dean nodded. "And the souls?"

"He didn't have any from Purgatory. All the power he gained was from the souls in Hell. I'm not sure how exactly he did it, but they've returned to their rightful place by now," Castiel explained.

"Wait, so why didn't he get any from Purgatory?" Sam looked confused.

"I umm.." Castiel paused, as he searched for the proper way to phrase it. "I kind of took them all..." He looked down at his feet, embarrassed.

"It's okay, Cas, we're over that. Now can we clean this crap up and go home?" Bobby appeared with a tarp and shovel.

The four men walked over to the body and cleaned up their biggest problem.

* * *

><p>AND THAT'S A WRAP…<p>

Wow. Just finished my first story. *dies from overexcitement*

Anyway, would you kindly review my story? If you do I'll love you for all of eternity 3


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